


Standartenführer Doktor Huth's Lesson in Humility

by KoreArabin



Category: SS-GB (BBC), SS-GB - Len Deighton
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bondage, Cock Rings, Gags, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual, Object Insertion, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, anal penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:51:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9877910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreArabin/pseuds/KoreArabin
Summary: As soon as he arrives I know I have to teach him a lesson.





	1. Chapter 1

As soon as he arrives I know I have to teach him a lesson. He’s just too fucking arrogant, haughty, dismissing a fellow officer as a “pig” when the man’s done his best to welcome him in style to this dreary, impecunious, conquered country. Stubbing his cigarette out in the pathologist’s kidney dish of blood, oozing lack of basic fucking respect for the recently deceased. Treating one of the Met’s most respected detectives like a bloody errand boy and insulting his trusted sergeant. Oh yes, Standartenführer Doktor Huth, some payback is most definitely in order.

~ ~ ~

I’m astonished at how easy it is to snare him. I understand that he doesn’t drink or, rather, drinks very little, so tainting his alcohol isn’t really an option. And the man doesn’t eat much, either. No doubt he likes to keep himself trim to look so imposing in that tight-fitting, shiny leather trenchcoat. In that, with his cap and his cane, he really is a masochist’s wet dream. Pity the only one who’s going to be on the receiving end of any pain probably isn’t one. Although I don’t know. His prissiness and slavish attention to detail may indicate some underlying fetishistic filthiness. It’ll be fun to find out.

I said it was easy – it was – the man smokes almost constantly. A couple of tampered-with packets of his favourite Deutsche Zigaretten, and a tiny, fragile phial of an airborne sedative inside the handset of each of the four phones he ordered installed the night he arrived – the handsets he slams down with predictable regularity – and my dear, dishy Dr Huth is sprawled unconscious across the metal desk he's so recently had moved into his office.

~ ~ ~

I study him as he sleeps, his mouth slack, drooling on the cold table top, an arm slung across the desk, the other hanging limp against his splayed thighs. The slightly pudgy features relaxed, those brilliant, penetrating, blue eyes closed. 

The first thing I do is to remove the thick leather belt from his – frankly - _fucking S &M_ trenchcoat and force it between those full, pouting lips, buckling it tightly behind his head. He stirs slightly, groaning and shaking his head, but sinks back down across the desk.

Then I have to manhandle him, pushing him up so that he’s half lying across the metal desk, bent at the hips, his plump arse canted upwards for my pleasure. I slide off his jackboots and socks and spread his legs, cuffing his ankles to the base of the legs of the desk, then looping leather straps around his thighs and attaching them to the top of the desk's legs. I can feel my cock twitching at how fucking helpless he is now - when he comes round he'll be unable to do much except writhe and struggle and moan. I can hardly fucking wait.

Last I buckle a belt tightly around his wrists, securing them in the small of his back, and another around his biceps, cranking his elbows as close together as I can. No doubt it’ll hurt once he regains consciousness but, at the moment, I’m enjoying myself far too fucking much to care.


	2. Chapter 2

I have the shears ready for when he awakes. I want to see his eyes, see the confusion and fear when he comprehends his predicament. As soon as I see some clarity and cognisance in those fluttering, awakening eyes, I snap the blades shut repeatedly in front of his face. I can see the confusion, then the fear, then _rage _in that face, as he perceives his situation. He shouts, loudly, against the gag and struggles violently with the straps binding him, but he is securely restrained and comprehensively gagged, and his cries are completely muffled and his struggles completely ineffective.__

I catch his gaze and hold it, dragging the point of the shears down the side of his neck, a fine trail of red pinpricks beading in their wake. When I reach the collar of his uniform I simply cut, sliding the blades down to his shoulder, slicing away down through the sleeve until it falls away, exposing his bound arm. I repeat this on the other side, then slice straight up the back, heedless as to whether my little Nazi plaything is incurring any nicks or scratches on the way. The jacket falls away easily, only the remnants of an undershirt still clinging to Huth’s body. 

__I slice through that easily, the shears neatly dividing the fabric like a knife through butter. When I reach beneath him to unbuckle his belt, he begins to struggle again in earnest. I bend forwards over him, pressing him down with my weight, letting him feel me hard through my clothing, nudging at his arse. Slowly I breathe, soft and hot, into his ear._ _

__“Ssshh, Liebling.”_ _

__He still struggles, but he’s too securely strapped down to do much more than writhe in his restraints. I slide the belt from his trousers and tease him by slapping it lightly across his clothed buttocks. When I slice through the waistband and seat of his trousers, he struggles to turn to look at me, his face white with humiliation and anger. If looks could kill, I’d be as cold and fucking stiff on the floor as the chap from Shepherd Market. Instead, I smile at him, and give him a cheeky wink, which only provokes more muffled outrage._ _

__I toss the ruined trousers aside, leaving him in only his pristine white briefs. Replacing the shears in my pocket, I retrieve my trusty flick knife and brandish it before his face. His eyes cross, rather adorably, as I tap him on the tip of the nose with the sharp point. A tiny fleck of blood appears, beading to a small bubble that slowly trickles down the side of his right nostril._ _

__I run the tip of the knife slowly down the valley between his buttocks, slicing open the white cotton. When get to his perineum, I change tack, reaching between his thighs from the front and turning the knife so the blunt edge is against him. Slowly, oh so _torturously_ slowly, I scrape the knife along his perineum and over his balls, then along his cock. Surprisingly, he’s half hard, though whether that’s though arousal or adrenalin I don’t know, and I don’t really fucking care. He hisses through his gag when I tease the tip of his cock, and flinches violently when without warning I rip through the front of his briefs. _ _

__And then he’s completely naked. Despite myself, I have to admit that he’s a delicious specimen of a man. I want a taste of that delectable flesh, so I kneel down behind him and lick a long wet stripe up his thigh and over the crease of his buttock, then bite down, hard, hard enough to draw blood, as he jerks and yells into his thick leather gag._ _

__Licking away the ring of blood, I stand and place some items on the desk before him. A pot of grease, a pair of rubber rings joined together to form a rough figure eight, and his sword cane, with its lovingly rendered bulbous handle. I see those ice blue eyes widen in apprehension before I move to stand behind him._ _


	3. Chapter 3

I inspect his backside, stroking my fingertips over the firm flesh, the skin milky white and smooth as cream. He's breathing harshly around the gag, quivering with apprehension. I know he's expecting me to rape him.

We'll get to that. But, just now, I want to squeeze and pinch and play with his perfect arse, to mark it and discolour it, to brand it as used. To ensure that, once I've finished with him, he won't be able to forget just exactly how fucking used.

I slap his cheeks lightly, just watching them quiver as the skin begins to turn a delicate shade of pink. I could of course hit him far harder; I've large, tough, work-hardened hands that can dish out some real punishment, but I'll keep it gentle for now, just get him nicely warmed up.

I grab a handful of his hair, noting as an aside that it's already a little mussed from his earlier struggles, and arch his head up and back painfully.

"When did you last receive a spanking, Liebling?"

He twists, trying to look at me and to loosen my grip in his hair.

"When one of your superiors in Berlin decided to have a little fun with you? Everyone knows your top brass are a bunch of perverts. A pretty blue-eyed boy like you; they must be queueing up to play with you."

I begin to hit him with more force, not stopping until his skin is a blazing red and he's struggling to get away from the merciless onslaught on his arse. Not to mention my hand's beginning to ache a bit, too. He starts yelling again into his gag when I pick up the pot of grease and spread his cheeks, but he's helpless to prevent me doing whatever I fucking want to him. 

I coat his pink little pucker liberally with the grease and play with him, massaging him, teasing at his arsehole without penetrating him. He flexes his buttock muscles, trying desperately to squeeze them shut and protect himself, but it's futile. Reaching between his legs and smearing my grease-covered fingers over his testicles and along the underside of his cock, I wrap my palm around it, gently easing his foreskin backwards then rubbing the tip of my thumb lightly over his slit. Huth _whines _into the gag as a dribble of pre-come trickles rather gratifyingly over my fingers.__

__"My dear Herr Doktor, you appear to be enjoying yourself."_ _

__He flushes and closes his eyes. I grab his hair again and pull, hard. His eyes snap open and I grab the rubber ring from the desk._ _

__"We don't want you getting too excited too quickly, Liebling. I mean for us both to enjoy ourselves - I know I certainly shall, but I want you to, too, despite yourself."_ _

__He winces and groans as I work the rubber down his cock until it's snug around the base. Then I roll his testicles gently in my fingers, popping first one, then the other, through the tight latex. Huth hisses around the gag; it's uncomfortable for him, I know, having his cock and balls trussed like this when he's only semi-erect, but it'll get worse as he hardens. I'm looking forward to tormenting his poor, swollen dick once it's unbearably sensitive and he's aching to come._ _

__But first, I'm going to indulge myself in his tight, hot arse._ _


	4. Chapter 4

I unbutton my fly and take myself in hand, smearing the grease liberally over my prick. Lining myself up, I nudge at his tight opening, glistening with the grease I covered it with earlier. As my cock begins to press into him, he jerks, hard, gabbling something incomprehensible into the gag. His wrists twist in their leather restraints, clutching at the air as I continue to press into him, feeling the heat of his tight, resisting hole against the head of my rock hard prick. 

I feel the moment oh so clearly when I breach him; he is stiff and quivering again, fighting me all the fucking way. I don't care - I force myself in, delighting in the squelchy sounds the grease lube produces in the silent office. Huth whimpers as I deliberately pull back slightly, leaving the head of my cock just stretching the taut ring of muscle around his opening. I rock gently against him, just letting the tip of my dick stretch and tease him. Then, unexpectedly, as I nudge gently into him again, he pushes back against me. I'm not sure it's even a conscious reaction on his part. I rock again, and he moves with me.

So. Our haughty Herr Doktor Huth enjoys having his hole teased.

I continue rocking, and reach round to stroke his cock. It's rock hard now, and he moans into the gag as I wrap my hand around him and pump. I rub at his slit again, smearing the pre-come over the head of his cock, enjoying the wet sounds of lube and pre-ejaculate slapping on skin as I masturbate him.

It's time to begin fucking him properly; after all, I'm supposed to be here to teach him a lesson. I begin to press in, hard, ignoring his squeals of discomfort as I push in and out. Dear God, he's so fucking tight and hot, it's all I can do to prevent myself spilling into him immediately. I glance down, and there're a couple of streaks of blood on my cock. I've split him - I've christened his virgin arse for him. _Used_ him.

I push in and out, again and again, harder and harder, until finally I've forced my prick all the way in to his arsehole. I'm seated to the hilt inside the prissy, haughty Standartenführer Doktor Huth's arse, and it feels fucking fantastic.


	5. Chapter 5

I rock against him, wondering if it really is his first time. His reaction to the anal teasing would suggest so, but he might have just been holding back because of the situation. The thought of it makes me chuckle, and I’m rewarded with a sudden violent twist of his torso and a filthy look from the corner of one of those sky-blue eyes. I let my balls rest heavy against his arse, slapping slightly against him as I begin to thrust harder.

Looking down at the base of my prick, shining wet with grease lube, which has also smeared all around his stretched, reddened opening, I’m suddenly possessed with a desire to humiliate him even further.

I stroke his buttocks with my fingertips, then score the darkening, bruised skin sharply with my nails.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, Herr Doktor.”

Huth doesn’t move, and so I dig my nails in deeper, drawing raised, weeping lines of red across his arse. 

“I told you to fuck yourself,” Huth hisses as I claw at him, “on my cock. Don’t make me use the belt on you.”

He gives a long, drawn-out groan of resignation and attempts to push back against me. He can hardly move, and I judge loosening the straps around his thighs isn’t going to prove too much of a threat to me, given that he’s so securely restrained elsewhere.

I pull back, just letting the head of my cock pop in and out of his arsehole. It’s beginning to get puffy as well as red, and I reckon I'm going to leave him pretty fucking sore even without the rest of the seeing-to I’m planning to give him. Huth arches his back and flexes his thighs, pushing against me, and my cock slips back inside his delicious, tight heat. 

I rest my palms on his hips, letting him work himself hard on my cock. I can see he’s sweating, and breathing heavily through the gag. He must be getting tired of fucking himself on me. I decide to give him a little encouragement to keep going.

I reach around and take his cock in hand. As expected, it’s swollen and rock hard, and Huth moans as I squeeze him. Pretty fucking sensitive by now, too, I expect. I pump him slowly, and change position slightly, searching for his prostate. His sudden gasp, followed by a long, low, whine of pleasure despite himself confirms I’ve hit the spot.

“Do you want to come, Herr Doktor?” 

His lack of response isn’t unexpected. I’d hardly expect him to just roll over and give it up that easily.

“Do you want me to unfasten your cock harness? Your prick and balls must be pretty painful by now, hmmm? Wouldn’t you like me to free them and allow you to orgasm?”

I slide the tip of his cock around in the pre-come he’s leaked all over the metal desktop and he responds with a frustrated, what-sounds-very-much-like-pleading groan. 

“Shall I tell you what I want you to do for me, Liebling? All I want is for you to roll your hips for me whilst I fuck you, rub your cock in the mess you’ve left on the desk whilst I stroke you, and moan for me. Do you think you can do that? If you can, I’ll take off your cock strap and you can come.”

For a moment I think he’s going to blank me again but, instead with a muffled sigh, he twists his head slightly and nods.

I remove the rubber cockring as gently as possible, and stroke him firmly several times, root to tip. He circles his hips beautifully, rolling back against me and moaning, deep, low and filthy, into the sodden leather gag.


	6. Chapter 6

And then I know I've got to make him come first. I want to see him and hear him when he loses control, when he orgasms all over the shiny metal of his desk, and then witness the dawning recognition of what, against all his better instincts, I've made him do. I want him to feel me ejaculating inside him, deep and hot and wet, and later, to feel it leaking out of him as he returns to his lodgings and tries to wash this evening's activities away.

I smear the mess from the desk over my palm and pump him with hard, fast strokes. He's nearly there, I can tell, bracing himself against me, hissing what sounds like a stream of growled German expletives, garbled by the gag. I squeeze his cock hard, ramming into him, aiming with every stroke for his prostate. 

As he begins to shudder with the first throes of orgasm, I pull his head up and kiss him sloppily, over the gag. His eyes go wide and he yells hard, a great gout of come bursting from his swollen prick, over the desk, over his stomach, and dripping to the floor.

As he slumps forward, panting, into the pool of his release, I at last let myself go, thrusting up hard enough to almost lift him and the desk off of the floor. I pump and pump into him, my face mashed against the wet stubble at the nape of his neck. He smells delicious - leather, sweat, sex and _debauchery_. I need to taste him, so I lick a long wet stripe up his neck and into his soaking hair - one last little liberty before I have to - regretfully - take my leave.

His eyes are closed when I pull out of him and clean up on the tattered remains of his clothing, tucking myself away and buttoning my fly. I'll inflict once last indignity on him, but only after I've put him to sleep again so I can make my escape.

Slipping one of the sedative phials from its small metal casing, I force my hand over his face, crushing the phial against his nostrils. He fights like mad against me but he's still restrained and I gradually feel his struggles subside as the drug takes effect. It's only a small dose this time, just enough to give me time to untie him and remove the gag, leaving him slumped over the desk.

The final pièce de résistance is his cane; he takes it everywhere with him and, when he isn't thumping someone in the chest with it, he's brandishing it like a fucking weapon. The handle's not so big, but it's solid and cold and just big enough to keep him plugged up with my come, as well as giving him one last little souvenir to remember me by. 

I leave my calling card beside his sleeping face, "Courtesy of the British Resistance."

On the back, a more personal flourish.

"Until next time, Liebling."

**Author's Note:**

> SS-GB has just started on BBC1 as *the* Sunday evening drama. Lars Eidinger is the deliciously haughty Dr Oskar Huth. I had the unbelievably good fortune to see Herr Eidinger in the Berlin Schaubuehne's Richard III at the Barbican in London last Saturday, and I was blown away. Four standing ovations for this unbelievably stunning production, and then - Lars appearing as the baddie the next day in SS-GB!
> 
> The man is seriously gorgeous. The character really needs some abuse. :-)


End file.
